


The Illyrians Must Be Crazy

by tricksterlovegodling



Category: SHAKESPEARE William - Works, Twelfth Night - Shakespeare
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Awkward Sexual Situations, Crack, Embarrassment, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderfluid, Hand Jobs, Hangover, Identity Reveal, In-Laws, Jealous Sebastian, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Misgendering, Orsino being creepy, Romantic Sebastian, Viola - Freeform, but not in that order, from Orsino no less, idefk, probably, tragic backstory, wedding night advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-13 16:30:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18472738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricksterlovegodling/pseuds/tricksterlovegodling
Summary: I wanted to put Cesario in an awkward situation and accidentally made Orsino into a sex-offender. For some reason it reads a lot like Twilight. Also a world where Sebastian and Olivia actually get to know one another before their wedding. A story about how our siblings are fated to marry people we don't get, and fail to see how awesome our own spouses are.





	1. Love me do

**Author's Note:**

> I actually like Orsino, I don't know how this happened

He woke up in a lot of pain. Maybe that's why it took him so long to realize that wasn't his bed. He was fully dressed and even had his shoes on. His head ached, his bindings had become too tight, suffocating, his stomach burned, and his last recollection of the night before was playing cards with Valentine and some swordsmen.  
Little by little, Cesario became less self-absorbed and noticed he wasn't alone. He stopped facing the edge of the mattress and turned on his other side. What he saw was much more worrisome than he’d have expected.  
“I was wondering if you'd ever wake up.” Orsino smiled at him with his cheek resting on his palm, looking very at home.  
A second look told him the Duke was probably more than just shirtless under his blankets. What was happening? What had happened?  
He sat up quickly, almost in panic but the the separate pains in his head and stomach told him he wasn't going anywhere yet. He wrapped his head in his arms and groaned in pain.  
“Poor boy!” Orsino caressed his hair as he spoke with only a slight note of amusement. “Is defeat taking its toll on you?” This time he couldn't contain his smile from his voice.  
“What defeat?” he asked too worried and sick to remember his manners.  
“You're hopeless with cards, you should never place bets again,” the Duke advised.  
“Did I lose?” Cesario wondered.  
“About seven times in a row,” Orsino informed. “Eight if you consider collapsing the same as losing but you never got to drink the eighth cup.” He told the story like it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen.  
Cesario did remember the first drink and losing the first match. He did not remember seven drinks and eight matches. Not even close. Actually he didn't remember a lot of things.  
“How did I get here?” It was a question for himself but maybe his master knew the answer.  
“I brought you here,” Orsino explained matter-of-factly.  
The boy's head snapped up: “Why?”  
“For your protection,” Orsino smiled mysteriously. Thinking was too painful right now so Cesario only stared back in confusion. “The boys wanted to prank you,” the Duke finally clarified. “Prank?” Cesario was confused. “Oh, you know, lock you out, steal your clothes, push you in the pond, something like that,” Orsino listed some possibilities.  
Cesario was horrified at the idea they might've tried to take his clothes off. This would've ended terribly for him. His “him” didn't last very long out of his clothes.  
Orsino's face, though, showed he didn't see anything wrong in the story he was telling. “I usually think of those things as a show of fraternal love but then again, isn't protecting also a show of love?”  
He wasn't laughing anymore. He was very intensely gazing into the younger's eyes, full of expectation. Cesario was frozen. His mind was too hazy and his body too weak to be sure it was real. After all, if Orsino really were about to kiss him, he should escape, and not just wait for it, right? Right?  
The Duke's hand got to the nape of Cesario's neck and pulled the boy into his kiss. His scratchy stubble and firm grip made it clear all that was really happening. And it was getting difficult to breath. It wasn't the binding, but the thundering of Cesario's heart taking all of his chest.  
Orsino released his grip a little and studied the boy's reaction.  
“Are you just surprised or is this fear?” His voice was husky and gentle, almost a whisper.  
“I… I'm not sure,” Cesario hesitated. “What about…?” he didn't know which of many options to end his question with.  
“The others?” Orsino completed for him. “There are no others between these walls.”  
“Is this a show of fraternal love?” Cesario questioned trying to stall. “I never…” he trailed off.  
“I once squired to an older man to whom I looked up. I can’t say his love towards me wasn't fraternal, though. Because of course he outranked me, but doesn't an older brother love even his youngest sibling?”  
Cesario, who'd actually had a brother, disagreed with the idea that was the kind of love siblings shared. But he didn't know what to say. He did want his master's love, but if he was looking for something only a young man could give, he’d probably be disappointed at Viola’s body.  
“How did it end?” he almost shouted in his anxiety.  
“I grew up,” the Duke stated pretty simply. “He praised me to his peers and superiors, I was promoted, he found a new squire and maybe loved him, too, maybe not. Brotherly love is rather silent.”  
“Sounds like he used you,” the boy observed not only to stop things this time.  
“We all use people,” Orsino sounded dismissive but defended himself a little too much: “Didn't I get good things in return? A friend, warmth and company, and eventually a promotion.”  
“But if you'd said no he could've punished you. Can you even say no to a superior?” He wasn't talking about the two of them but it was clear in Orsino's eyes that was what he understood.  
“I'll love you all the same if you decide to leave,” he said as his smile faded and he pushed himself away from the boy a little. “I don't mean to use you. Not in any negative way, at least. We could be equals here, where no one else can see us,” he offered.  
“I'm not sure what that means but I don't think I can show you a man’s love. I can't be your equal, even in pretense.” Cesario didn't leave the bed as he spoke, he didn't even push himself farther away. He just looked down and lamented.  
“That's too bad. I find equality very refreshing in my bed.” The boy looked at him curiously. “It’s no fun submitting who’s already under you all the time,” the Duke explained himself.  
“I can't rise to your level, we could never be equals,” Cesario declared.  
“You're overthinking this,” the Duke observed. “I've already said you can leave and I won’t be angry or offended. What else are you afraid of?”  
“Pain, shame, and your rage.” Cesario did know what he was afraid of.  
“I wouldn't hurt or shame you, I'm not some deviant. But I wouldn't force you either so I can't really prove it. And it's inconceivable to me why I should be enraged.”  
Cesario sighed: “I do love you. But you deserve better. You deserve to get what you look for.”  
“So why you’d deny me what you believe I deserve?” Orsino laughed.  
“Because I know myself. I'm not it.”  
“Then you should leave,” the Duke decided.  
As he began to obey, Cesario thought it important to stress out: “I do love you, though.” “Then you should stay,” Orsino wasted no time in answering.  
Cesario was torn. He looked back at his master, who had cradled his head in his arms and looked excessively peaceful. The boy was so confused he didn't even feel sick anymore. He didn't feel comfortable either. But a part of him was winning over the rest and this part was afraid like the others, and still didn't feel like leaving. Was there a way around it?  
“Can we compromise?”  
Orsino immediately laughed in response. “That's what we do with equals,” he said trying to cover his eagerness with calm. He was never calm, so it was obviously part of his bed persona even though Cesario was only now coming to think about the need to tell lies in bed, or at least being on your best behaviour.  
“I don't know how those things go. Not really. Is there anyway I can stay, and also keep my clothes on?”  
“Aren’t we all particular about certain things in the bedroom?” Orsino snickered, approaching. “I wouldn't know,” the boy confessed.  
He suckled on the younger's earlobe before whispering: “I could make do with your pretty hands.” And he caught one. “Huh?” of course Cesario didn't get it.  
“The wit isn't as quick now, I see,” the Duke joked as he pulled that hand to a part of him that had long escaped the tent made with a blanket over it.  
Now there was no ignoring it. “Here,” he held the other one's hand around his shaft and gave it a rhythm, “like this.”  
Cesario couldn't believe what was happening. What was this world that such unimaginable things were talked about so lightly? And done, he was doing the unthinkable after all. And the look in Orsino's face, the sounds he made, the feel of him in his hand, all those things propelled him on.  
He did feel accomplished in making the man come. He just didn't know about the sticky and warm physical manifestation of it. He had no idea if he should be disgusted or curious. He wiped his hand on the bedsheets and watched Orsino relax on his back, eyes closed, softly moaning. Since there was this moment's freedom between him and his master's body, he wiped his belly, his now softened male part and its pendants. The owner of such parts went on softly moaning as if giving into a warm bath when sore.  
“Lie with me a little,” he asked outstretching an arm. Cesario knew it was an invitation, not a command, but the truth was that Orsino didn't know how not to sound commanding.  
He did place his head on the older man's chest but only the upper half of his body was pressed against his. It was disturbing feeling so close to him and still have to lie. Yeah, I'll lie with you, master, and lie to you, too.  
“You don't think yourself ugly, do you?” Orsino asked in the sleepiest voice Cesario had ever heard from him. “It’d be a silly reason not to let me see and feel you.” He tightened his arm around the boy.  
“Not ugly, just not myself,” Cesario explained even though he knew his master would never understand.  
Orsino chuckled: “Now that you mention it, I think I remember such feeling.”  
“You do?” the boy was truly surprised, he didn't know that anyone else felt the same, especially someone who wasn't trying to be their lost sibling of a different sex.  
“Of course. Changing from child to man is uncontrollable. It often felt like something was wrong with me. But for me it was the voice more than my looks. Though I can imagine that being so much prettier than most, might make you unsure that you can in time come to be handsome.”  
That wasn't it, of course, but it was as close as he could hope a normal person to understand.  
“Sometimes I wish I could be handsome.” He was silent for a moment but then continued: “Sometimes I want to wear a dress and call myself Viola. Sometimes.” It was a dangerous confession but he was already balancing on the edge of this seemingly endless fall.  
“Why that name?” his drowsy voice coming halfway from slumberland.  
“Because that would be my name if life were different.”  
“Sure.” He was mostly asleep now.  
Cesario filled himself with Orsino's scent. How much love could his confused self contain? Cesario was most of him lately but Viola was in love with Orsino as well. She wanted to be a woman for him. She also wanted to be a woman for herself but it was just too dangerous now. Of course she would be disgraced if she were ever a woman for him, he was in love with Olivia. He wouldn't marry another woman just because he’d dishonored her. She knew that much about men at least. Plus he’d already said it was men’s love, something else completely, kept in another compartiment of his heart than love for women. It wasn't hard to understand but nearly impossible to accept.  
It was time to leave the master undisturbed. There wasn't much to do about being seen leaving his bedroom but who would ever believe Orsino was sleeping with a boy? Also it really showed he’d slept in his clothes, so there was that.  
He fled to his bedroom and sobbed, and tried not to think why. This time taking off the bandages was freeing. How good it felt taking deep breaths. They could cry so much better.  
Cesario and Viola were one but still thought in plural form. We are stupid. We should shut up. So whenever trying to think about things in a detached way it was “they” the word to describe this being: Viola-Cesario.  
We’re plural, they thought as a diversion from real things. Don’t you wish we could be both? they wondered. Both ride and wear pretty ribbons, or put on a dress again while keeping the hat with its funny plume.  
They'd stone us in the marketplace. They knew that, of course, but one could dream. Or rather two could dream of being one. And the dream was so much nicer than reality, what else were they supposed to do?  
Right, cry a bit more. So they did.  
*  
Back to being just Cesario, it felt impossible to look Orsino in the eye but he knew people would notice if he just stood there silently and red-faced. The Duke spoke a little more formally to him than usual but otherwise acted very naturally. Cesario followed the formal tone, which was his usual towards Orsino anyway, and tried hard to pretend he’d forgotten the morning events.  
Of course at some point, as usual, he was the only one attending the master. Orsino smiled beautifully at the boy and asked:  
“Do you know what's the only thing in my mind all day?” His eyes denounced his thoughts to anyone in the know. Cesario just blushed and said nothing. “I think you do know,” the Duke laughed.  
“Once you told me there was only one thing ever in your mind,” Cesario spoke softly but as soon as the words were out realized what a brat he was being.  
Before he could apologize though he saw something change in Orsino's eyes and was caught in that. It wasn't anger, looked more like surprise but it was gone in a flash. Now he couldn't look away.  
“What's in your mind? You look like you’re in pain,” the Duke observed.  
They'd thought it over and over despite their attempts not to: “I can’t love you so little it doesn't hurt or so much that you don't need her love.” No need to name her.  
Orsino frowned but it only lasted a second. “Six more years of mourning, you heard so yourself,” he shrugged like it was nothing.  
“What about me?” They were more Viola than Cesario right now.  
Orsino smiled. “I see you have strong feelings,” he began. “You see, despite my experiences as a youth, it’s my first time on the other end of this. I've never looked at a boy in quite this way. But I do know you'll outgrow me, and I'm pretty sure you don't think so right now. I have been in that place.” Then he was tired of being real. “But if you're so terrible at cards, maybe you should bet on love.”  
“And once you grow weary of me…?” mostly Viola suggested darkly.  
“I can't make promises,” he smiled uncomfortably. “You’ll be a man soon, you know, bearded and deep-voiced. I'm not particularly fond of that. I just like you, that's all,” his tone was back to serious and he hadn't even planned on that.  
They broke in tears.  
“Please don't,” Orsino walked over and lifted them from the chair, into his arms. “I don't want your tears. Let me make you feel better.” He pressed his body against theirs.  
Suddenly they'd rather die than keep lying. “Please don't hate us. Please don't hurt us,” they prayed, stepping away from his embrace.  
Orsino was too confused to react, he just stared. They started stripping. The Duke had obviously never seen bound breasts before since he only looked more confused at this sight. The unwrapping seemed to last forever, so as soon as the binding felt loose enough, they pulled it down to end the suspense.  
“Stop this!” he commanded. They froze and were immediately covered by the doublet Orsino had taken off in a flash.  
He stared in horror. They wept silently afraid of averting their eyes. Afraid of what Orsino would do once he finally snapped out of his shock. It didn't look good. He started many sentences that died in the first word. After what felt like an eternity, he turned his back and began:  
“I am so sorry. This is no way to treat a lady.” He couldn't help himself, he turned back to look them in the eye. “You are a lady, right?” He really wasn't sure but noticing again those pretty breasts were precariously covered by his jacket had him blushing and turning his back once more. “I'm sorry!”  
“My name's Viola. My father was that Sebastian of Messaline. My twin brother had the same name. I became Cesario to serve you because I've lost everything but my life in a shipwreck.” Now all was said they could only go back to their prayer: “Please don't hate us. Please don't hurt us.”  
“Never!” he vowed so intensely he had to turn and look at them, but immediately blushed and turned back once more. “Please, please put your clothes back on!”  
They did. “Here, my lord,” they handed the doublet back.  
Now he took a long, long look at them, head to toe several times. This also seemed to go on forever.  
“Oh, what have I done!” he finally broke the silence. “I-- how can I fix this? I'm so sorry.”  
“About what? I was the one who lied to you.” They feared punishment too much to dare imagine escaping it.  
“Oh, dear Lord, the things I've said!” Orsino was pale. “I'm such an idiot!” He took an eager step towards them but stopped himself. “Please, be seated, my lady.” And started pacing.  
He’d look at them and turn the other way in shame. His anxiety was too troubling to the younger's likes. They were in tears once more.  
This time though, Orsino went to his knees, took their hand in both of his and pleaded: “Please forgive my disgraceful behavior towards you, my lady. If I had any idea… Please, it's I who beg, don’t hate me. I was blind. How could I ever believe a boy would be this beautiful? Please, forgive this, too,” he amended quickly. “I shouldn't be this familiar, I know. It's just…” he didn't finish, he just let go of their hand and went back to pacing. “Oh, my heart! Am I dying?” Of course he wasn't, it was just his panache.  
Viola still shed silent tears while Cesario's thoughts withdrew whenever Orsino said lady.  
He was back on his knees by them. He hesitated but took their hand again. There was a new look to his face, intense as always but unknown to them.  
“I pray you, dear lady, ask me anything and I'll bend the laws of nature and God Himself to make it happen.”  
“You can't,” they warned trying to keep numb to false hope.  
“Please, tell me, my lady,” he beseeched.  
“You can't bring my twin back to life, and as for the only other wish I have, I know love's not some trinket to be asked and given at will.”  
“Would you wish for my love?” he asked with huge eyes and a hint of a smile, though he also looked pained.  
“I dream of it. I want to die whenever you say that name,” and it also hurt that he immediately knew whom it was. “And I wanted to kill her instead of saying words of love!” they confessed.  
“Please punish me, strike me!” he offered. “I doubt I was ever this stupid before. I know I deserve your disgust. But could you find in your heart to forgive me?”  
“But you did nothing wrong. I'm the liar. You're the one who must forgive me. Please don't hurt us,” they pleaded again.  
“Oh, no, please don't think that of me,” begged. “I know I treated you disgracefully, but I swear I didn't know. I'll make every amend, I promise. I'll give you proper quarters, offer you my protection, have the most exquisite dresses made for you, ask nothing in return if you can't love me… but if you can, if you find in your heart to love me, please do.” There were tears in his eyes and that was more disturbing than the words themselves.  
“I do love you, my lord,” they assured. “And I think I always will. But right now it's not only my heart in your hands but my entire fate. I must know what you'll make of that.”  
“I’d make a wife of you if you’ll have me,” he announced more intensely than ever.  
They cried harder: “How can you say that when you love another?”  
“I do?” He sounded honestly confused for a second, which surprised both. “You mean the countess? No! Didn't you hear me earlier? My thoughts of you left no room to think of another. I know I sound fickle, but I couldn't give all my love to the boy I thought you were, no matter how dearly I loved him, no matter how increasingly. But now…” he was lost. Words failed him, that much was clear.  
“And when you grow weary of us?” they insisted, because Orsino did sound much more fickle about women than friends.  
“You’ll say something clever and have me fall in love even deeper,” he guaranteed. They laughed and it was only half ironic. “Why-- never mind.”  
“What's that?” they were curious.  
“Why do you say us?”  
“It’s just that being both Viola and Cesario makes us think like that,” they tried to explain. Orsino was frowning, listening intently but clearly confused. “I don't understand it any better than you,” they admitted. “It just is.”  
“Oh, to unveil your mysteries! Oh, to unveil my bride!” He kissed their hand again. “You haven’t said yes,” he reminded looking up and sounding so infuriatingly confident Viola could only say: “Of course I'll marry you.”  
He pressed their hand to his face affectionately, kissed it again, and declared: “You have made me the happiest man who's ever lived.” Suddenly he froze looking at the hand he held. He changed: “I'm a monster, aren't I?”  
“Why would you say that?” But they were blushing, aware of the hand's part in the morning events.  
“I can't believe I did that. I'm so sorry,” he repeated.  
“We never left,” they shared the blame.  
“No!” he was horrified. “No, no, you were right! I took advantage of my station, I know I bullied you into it, I did it on purpose. But I swear I didn't know. It's just-- You were-- No, I mean… I don't know what I mean, but I am sorry, and I am to blame, not you.”  
“That's what you were taught,” they made of it. “You told me so. Someone you loved did this to you, and you believed him when he called it love. How could you not? You loved him.”  
Orsino finally stood, and walked to the window with his back turned. Viola shot to their feet and went to him afraid of how desperate he looked. They held his arm and he looked at them more lost than ever.  
“What is happening right now?” he spat out.  
Cesario was slightly relieved at the outrage in his voice. That was Orsino being Orsino, no jumper. But it was still a painful realization, the one he'd come to. He put his arms around them, and was held as well. Silence. His hug became increasingly crushing. They placed their palms on his chest, making him let go. He didn't meet their eyes but turned back instead.  
Viola chased him. His eyes were wet. “Don’t be ashamed. I know you’re a man, tears won’t change that. They might even make you stronger.”  
“Why am I so afraid?” he asked as if they had answers.  
“I'm afraid, too, but I'm not sure.”  
“Are you afraid of me?” he asked worriedly.  
“I'm afraid you'll leave me. I'm afraid you'll come to your senses and laugh at me. But I know you won't hate me. You're not a monster.”  
“I can't leave you, are you insane? Well, you must be if you love me.” His face relaxed a little.  
“Then I am insanely in love with you,” they assured. He chuckled weakly.  
“I'm wasting our time here, aren't I?” he changed the subject. “What do you mean?” Viola questioned with a bad feeling.  
“I should be asking all about you,” he said oblivious to her suspicions. “Now there's no need for secrets anymore. I should be listening to your every story, not crying of all things. I know my life, tell me of yours.”  
Viola laughed, relieved. “What do you want to know first?”  
“What's your favorite thing in the world?”  
“That you have asked that,” they answered, surprised at the warm feeling triggered by his question.  
“That's sweet. But seriously, what is it?”  
“I was serious but fine, let’s see. I think it's music. All music. It's always moving.”  
“And the thing you love second best?” he proceeded.  
“You can’t go about it like that, it’s unnatural!” she laughed.  
“Fine,” he whined. “What's your favorite color?”  
“That's a really hard one for us, I like bright colors but they’re too girly sometimes.” Orsino laughed.  
“What did you look like before you came here?” he went on.  
“You mean as a girl? I used to wear my hair much longer, and embroidered dresses with white lace and silk ribbons. But I would dress like Sebastian sometimes and mimic his movements. He was very annoyed by it, so I did it often.”  
Orsino laughed some more. He asked about Sebastian and there was a lot Viola wanted to say about him.  
They were both surprised by sunrise. The talk was going so well, there was just no good reason to keep time. But since it was a reasonable hour for those who cared about it, Orsino considered: “We could get married right now.”  
“Can we?” they weren't as convinced. “I don't even have a dress. You can’t marry your pageboy.”  
“I can and I will,” he guaranteed. “But you're right of course, you need proper clothes. More in keeping with your station.”  
“Station,” they echoed, thinking station wasn't the first thing a dress informed.  
“How about this evening?” Orsino offered.  
“Why are you rushing this?”  
“I want to be able to call you mine.” And a little more intensely: “I want to be able to make you mine.” Viola blushed. “But if you need time to make up your mind you must tell me, so I can stop thinking this is decided.”  
“But it is!” they assured him.  
“A week, then?” he suggested.  
*  
“Are you inviting lady Olivia to our wedding?” they asked him the next morning.  
Orsino looked confused: “What for?”  
“So she knows why we’re not after her anymore.”  
“We as in just you?” he questioned.  
“We as in you too,” she laughed. “After all, it was you who sent Cesario to her like a sheep to a slaughter.”  
“Slaughter?” he echoed. Then his eyes became playful. “If I had to guess, I'd say the upper hand would be surely yours in a fight.”  
Now he was very pleased at making Viola laugh. When they quieted down, the question was repeated: “So, are you inviting her?”  
He shrugged. “She wouldn't even read the invitation.”  
“It would be a terrible faux-pas if you just forgot to invite her,” Viola reminded him.  
“I suppose you’re right. And there's probably no harm in that, she wouldn't attend a wedding, anyway. The fun might be too much for her,” he scoffed.  
“Oh, I think she just might come,” Viola sounded sly.  
“Why do you say so?”  
“Because she won't believe it if she doesn't see it herself. And she'll probably be curious about your bride.”  
“Do you think she'll recognize you?”  
“That would be a funny look on her face!”  
But talk got to countess before the wedding day. She came prepared for the surprise, and still couldn't help but stare at Viola in wonder. She wished them a blessed marriage and didn't stay long.


	2. She smiled sweetly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wholesome chapter where Sebastian woos Olivia, misgenders Viola, and hates Orsino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you say "Grow up, Sebastian!" before the end of the story, I will have done my job. Moreover, enjoy the drama

It took seven months for the news to find him and for him to gather up the courage to be disappointed. So finally he landed in the city. Should he get his hopes shattered first thing, though, or walk about Illyria a bit and see the sights?  
At first he felt like the city's beauty standard was him: he couldn't go far without getting looks from both men and women. After a while, however, he started noticing those looks weren't the pleased kind. People were shocked. But why? He wasn't dressed so differently from them, and he wasn't doing anything but walk.  
A clown approached him after some more walking. He smiled brilliantly at him and saluted: “Master Cesario, what pleasure to see you! Are you planning on being accused of witchcraft soon?”  
“Who's Cesario?” the young man asked.  
The clown was rather curious about him, and coming closer as if to study his face. “Why, if this isn't witchcraft, I don't know what is.”  
“You don’t look like you know much about anything,” Sebastian retorted.  
“Very true,” the clown admitted. “What I do know is how happy my lady would be to see you,” said the clown, placing an arm around the man and steering him where he wanted.  
“Who's your lady?” he inquired, ready for disappointment.  
“The lady Olivia, of course. I see you're really not Cesario.”  
“Olivia,” he murmured to himself. Those were the letters but not the order. Close enough to make a mistake. He sighed heavily.  
They entered a wealthy house where the clown was called Feste by the staff, and announced he’d found a present to his lady.  
“Seeing that you're too tall and gangly to be Cesario, and rather deep-voiced too, apple on your throat and all, who are you?” Feste insisted.  
“My name's Sebastian, not Cesario. And what are those things you’re saying?”  
“Sebastian,” the fool sang his name. “This is getting good!” And he left the young man in a garden he didn't know.  
Sebastian was confused, trying to understand why he was there, following a fool's instruction. But it didn't last long. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen entered the garden and upon seeing him broke into laughter.  
“My dear, are you back on playing your tricks? I have Feste for laughs, you know.” As she took steps towards him, she made remarks: “Are you taller? Are those whiskers?” she laughed. Then she was right in front of him, and lost her smile to confusion. “Fine, you win!” she said annoyed at something Sebastian had no idea what it was. “I can't tell. I don't know how you’re doing it but you even smell manly!” the lady accused.  
“I smell?” Sebastian was mortified. He thought he was fresh clean but maybe it was from standing too close to the fool. “I'm so sorry, let me take a step back.”  
The lady stared at him wide-eyed. “This!” she just pointed at him. “How do you do that?”  
“Do what?” Sebastian was too confused to think.  
“Speak more like this, I'm sure you can't do it for long. Do it!”  
“Do what, my lady? Speak? Why is that so impossible? Oh, I see, your beauty turns your suitors to mutes. I didn't come to woo you, madam. But now I don't see what else I could do. Most radiant beauty, I haven’t been in your city for more than a few hours, but I know I won't find such loveliness anywhere.”  
“You haven’t lost your sweet tongue after all. But you can't fool me twice.”  
“Do you also think my name's Cesario?” Sebastian questioned her.  
“You're dressed like a man, if not Cesario, what should I call you?”  
“Is it some Illyrian custom to call strangers Cesario? My name's Sebastian.”  
“There's something strange about you today, more so than usual.”  
“You don’t know my usual,” the young man defended himself. “Your land is stranger than usual, I can tell you that.”  
“What's so strange about it?” she asked in a serene voice that was much like an invitation to sit by her and contemplate beauty.  
He told her every strange look he’d received since his disembarking at the port, and how Feste had treated him like an old friend.  
“And then I saw you. Do you have any idea what your looks do to a man, specially an unwarned one like me? It's just cruel that you're so beautiful, and already hate me on someone else's account.”  
“I don't hate you. I thought you were the Duchess playing a trick on me. I bet it was the same for everyone who looked funny at you. It takes a closer look.”  
He was about to feel hope again, when a desperate shout broke from the gates: “Sebastian!” Chills ran down his spine and arms. A knot formed in his guts. He knew that voice. “Viola!” he shouted back, startling the lady.  
Before he could understand what he saw, a whole person collided against him, encircling him with thin arms. He knew that embrace, he knew that scent, and that particular shade of brown hair. But he had dreamt that dream too many times to let himself believe so easily. He took a step back and gained some perspective.  
It was Viola. He held his sister again, now sure it was her. And as even further proof it wasn't a doppelganger, he spied her peculiar wardrobe selection: “Is that a man's hat you’re wearing?”  
She laughed: “Oh, it's really you! Always worried about the wrong things. And it's my hat, so not a man's hat.”  
“But it used to be,” said an older man, who intruded their conversation and hovered a little too close to Sebastian's likes. “So this is your twin?” he addressed Viola.  
“He is,” she confirmed, never leaving Sebastian's arms. “My dear brother, I thought you were dead!”  
“Please don't cry,” he asked, knowing it was useless. What angered him, though, was that the intrusive man said the same words at the same time, sounding just too familiar with his sister. “Sir, if you'll excuse us, my sister and I have much to talk about.”  
“I bet you do,” the man scoffed. “But how long do we mean to crowd the countess's garden? We have a perfectly good hall for that at home.”  
Sebastian let out an exasperated sigh and spoke to his sister: “Does he also talk in 'wes’?”  
“No, brother,” Viola was truly amused by that interaction but it was time to smoothen things out. “My husband only talks like this when meaning the both of us.”  
“Husband?” Sebastian echoed in mix of surprise and appraisal.  
“Yes, their husband,” he confirmed, taking Viola from him. “It's very nice to meet my wife's twin. I've heard much about you.”  
Their, he’d said. At least Viola had found one as crazy as her. That was good, he supposed. But it was annoying that he had a claim over his little sister. Her husband. Viola was a married woman now and he hated that the man was older, taller, and more muscular than himself. And rich, too, a blind man could see. But he wasn't just crazy like Viola, he was obviously powerful. He could've told just from his stance, but that his wife could walk around wearing man's hats and boots, going with her dress, well, that wasn't for everyone. Good for Viola, he supposed.  
They said their goodbyes and apologized to the lady Olivia for bringing their troubles to her home. She didn't look offended, in Sebastian's opinion, but she did look beautiful. If he hadn't just found his lost sister, he didn't think he’d be able to leave. But he feared if he looked away he might lose Viola again. So he went with his sister, leaving the most beautiful woman in the world behind.  
Orsino really was a lot like Viola. They'd talk small things as if they were vital, and have long conversations about the kind of crazy things he believed only Viola ever thought about.  
“Yellow's a man's color,” the couple debated for a long time.  
But what he really hated was Orsino whispering at her ear and making her giggle. He tried talking about things that were only theirs, that Orsino had never known, but the man seemed aware of their every story. He'd say things like “I love that story,” or “you were eleven then, right?” and Sebastian knew his sister had told her husband all of their secrets.  
And even if none of that had annoyed him enough, there would inevitably be that infuriating moment when they bid him good night and left for bed together. His baby sister and that ugly monkey! He had failed Viola!  
*  
He went back to Olivia's that very morning. He still got some questioning looks down the streets. Actually, he'd get those looks indoors as well. Orsino's staff didn't seem to grasp the concept of twins really.  
He’d also overheard a boy dare another to call Sebastian “my lady”. That had decided it for him: he couldn't just sit idly and wait for things to happen. So he went to see this girl.  
He called at her gates and was allowed in. He was told to wait in the garden again but he didn't wait for long. Olivia met him with sparkly eyes and a beautiful smile.  
“Are you back so soon, sir?”  
“Soon? I feel so much older since I last saw you. And now it's like there's no such thing as time. If I only have a second of your time, it'll be my forever. I'll live it so intensely, a lifetime would never compare.”  
“There's a strong sense of déjà vu in this for me,” Olivia told him.  
Sebastian had heard that story. “I'm not carrying any messages, and I am Sebastian. To me it's all new. I know nothing but your beauty, tell me something about your heart, I beg you.”  
“My heart tells me this is stupid, and that you'll laugh at me, like your sister.”  
“So please forgive me that sister, I didn't chose her. I do want to know of your heart. Not just the peel but the core of it,” he promised.  
“You'd eat my heart if I let you, that much is clear. Goodday, sir.” And then she left.  
*  
“You and Olivia?” Viola sounded in love with the idea.  
The only thing really bothering him was his presence. Were they never allowed to be just the two of them anymore? Was he jealous of them? If by “he” you meant Orsino, then yes. He was obviously jealous of their bond, which was just sick.  
“Let's have a ball,” his sister suggested. “She'll have to come. Otherwise you'll be too showered by the attention of other girls, not one as pretty, I know, but they will come in dozens, she can’t risk it.” Why his sister sounded so evil saying those words?  
“I'm not so sure, Viola. The way she just left…” he sighed.  
“Ah, Olivia's heart!” Orsino mocked. “Is it really worth the trouble?”  
“You wouldn't know, would you?” Sebastian provoked.  
“Thank God no!” he laughed. “Where would we all be right now?”  
Well, he had a point. Sebastian just hated him more.  
“So a ball,” Viola pressed her idea.  
“A masque?” Orsino suggested.  
“No!” Sebastian protested. “No covering her face! Are you insane? Why do I even ask?” he said that last part eyeing the doublet his sister was wearing. It matched her husband's in a funny show of their shared madness. But then he became honestly curious: “Do you mean to look handsome or is it just me?”  
Of course the happy couple had to share some meaningful look and laugh before his sister answering: “I do today. But do you mean to look beautiful wearing such long hair?”  
He blushed. The hair had been his secret, well, it was visible but the reason behind it was the secret. And now Viola would make him say it outloud in front of her ever present husband.  
“I didn't find anyone I could trust with it,” he explained in the shortest way possible.  
Seeing how Orsino smiled condescendingly at him let Sebastian know his sister had talked about even trimming his hair. Did she have no sense of privacy? Well, she had believed him dead.  
“Is it so you look like Viola?” Orsino intruded.  
“What,” Sebastian was outraged. Of course that was the very reason of it, but how dare he.  
“Don’t take me wrong, they were dressed as you for three months,” he pointed his hand to Viola.  
Sebastian was too ashamed of his secret being revealed to understand how those two things were the same.  
“Good,” Viola interrupted his thoughts. “I can cut some ten months of hair from you, and we can even save a lock for Olivia. Or a dozen for those other girls in the small chance she doesn't come.”  
Sebastian considered her words, and decided he didn't need the hair any more, he could see the real Viola whenever he wanted again. There was something bothering him, though: Orsino coming along.  
As soon as Viola untied his hair and let it loose, they started discussing the possibility of Sebastian being convincing as a woman. He didn't mind that from his sister but it was different coming from Orsino. It wasn't cute. They were talking about painting his lips.  
“Can you just do what we agreed on?” he complained.  
“Since when you don't agree on a little fun?” Viola prodded him to the bench he should sit on.  
“This talk of making me a girl is not fun,” he protested.  
“Are you sure?” She made exaggerated movements with the scissors. “Last chance,” she sang.  
“Just cut it off already,” he demanded.  
*  
Two days later he took himself Olivia's invitation, glad for an excuse to go. Those had been two very unnerving days, not knowing what to do, or where to go to avoid being around those lovebirds all the time.  
He did make friends with Crurio, who'd roll his eyes at the couple's displays of love before straightening his face. But he was also not amused when Sebastian talked about Olivia.  
“What is it about that lady?” he just didn't understand. “I'd hate to be a woman, but if I were one, I'd be the ugliest possible. It’s never a quiet day for a beautiful woman!”  
Sebastian only laughed. If he were a woman, he'd have to keep the Duke away with a stick, he imagined. Much like Olivia had had to.  
When he got to her house, he was once more admitted, and led to the garden. He wanted so much to see her again, but just from wanting that bad he set himself to much greater chance of disappointment. Then she appeared, and he was so happy it was embarrassing. How could he help it, though? She smiled so sweetly!  
“Lady Olivia, it's such a privilege to see you again. I was afraid you wouldn't see me.”  
“I'm not that sensible, sir. So here I am,” she announced.  
“Will you tell me about yourself today?” He dared hope.  
“I know you said you don't mean to laugh at me. But your very existence is like the gods are mocking me.” Her smile was gone.  
“Is this about my face? Viola misused it,” he was starting to get pretty angry at his sister.  
“No, it's about your being alive. She told me about you, she cried for you, and now you're back from the dead,” she told him, not explaining one thing.  
“I was never dead,” Sebastian responded to the only part of her speech he understood.  
“But her loss seemed as real as mine. So why should she get her brother back and not me?” She didn't drop the tears forming in her eyes.  
“I don't know what to say, my lady. I didn't think my happiness could be anyone's misery, especially yours.”  
“I know envy isn't attractive, and I know I shouldn't feel it, but I fear I have dark heart,” she confessed.  
“I want to know it all the same,” Sebastian whispered.  
“Why?” Olivia seemed honestly confused as she asked.  
“Why wouldn't I?” he laughed nervously.  
“No one does.”  
“How can you say that?” Sebastian was shocked. Didn't she see herself for what she was?  
“No one ever asks me what I think of things. Certainly not men.”  
“I promise you I'm a man,” he misunderstood her point.  
“Why are you really here?” she inquired.  
“That's easy, to be near you.”  
“And what do you get from that?” she went on.  
“This one is more difficult. What are the words? Your presence makes me… happy? No, ecstatic? What's even greater than that? It’s what I used to feel when I was very little and the circus came to town, but better.”  
Olivia laughed and it was lovely. It felt glorious to be responsible for that.  
“Are you comparing me to a circus?”  
“Only in the sense of wonder.”  
“And what was your attitude towards the circus then?” she encouraged.  
“Oh, I didn't want to miss anything. Just like now.”  
The lady seemed satisfied by the answer, and said nothing else for a while. At first it was comfortable but when it became too long, Sebastian asked: “Will you tell me about your brother?”  
“No,” she sounded offended.  
“Why not?” Sebastian asked trying to understand what he did wrong.  
“Because I'd cry, and because he’s mine.”  
“I know the feeling.” It was surprising to hear it talked about. “I never wanted to tell anyone about Viola, it was my memory.”  
“So you know,” Olivia agreed.  
“She didn't feel the same, though. She told you about me, didn't she?”  
“She did,” Olivia admitted. “I remember thinking how funny it'd be if you were alive and showed up before she'd told Orsino who she was.”  
“Funny and dangerous,” Sebastian laughed. “Imagine that man thinking I'm my sister, oh, no!”  
Olivia laughed again. “You don’t like the Duke,” she observed. “Isn't he good to your sister?”  
“Probably,” he admitted sullenly. “But Viola is the one who has to like him. I'm allowed to think he’s annoying.”  
Olivia laughed some more. “You're jealous,” she pointed out.  
Sebastian blushed. “I'm not!” he protested.  
“So why you don't like him?” Olivia was having a lot more fun interrogating him than talking about herself.  
He didn't want to consider his reasons, not really. But Olivia looked at him expecting an answer. He made a quick examination of his own mind and said: “I know she loves him, but it was always the two of us, and now he knows all our secrets, and understands her better than I do. Am I the odd one out?”  
“I think you are,” Olivia said playfully but it still hurt. “If not jealousy, what do you call this?”  
“Is this jealousy?” He wasn't sure. “I thought we only ever felt jealous about lovers, but that's another thing I wouldn't know,” he confessed.  
“So you never loved another,” Olivia mused.  
“No, never,” he was quick to confirm.  
“How do you know you're in love, if don’t even know when you’re jealous?” she challenged.  
“I just do. Maybe I didn't want to recognize jealousy for what it is, because it's a bad thing. But why would I ignore a noble feeling like love?”  
“So you admit to overlooking your own faults?” she teased.  
He laughed. “You outwit me too easily, my lady.”  
She just smiled and gazed at him. This silence was longer and more comfortable than the previous. It was Olivia who looked away and asked: “Is your hair shorter today?”  
Sebastian liked that she noticed him enough to tell. “It’s for the ball,” he explained.  
“What ball?” Olivia was confused.  
“Oh, I forgot to tell you about it, our talk was so more interesting. But here,” he handed her the invitation. “Viola says it’s in celebration to our reunion, but I know she uses any excuse when some new fancy takes over her.”  
“I think your reunion deserves much celebration. People don’t just come back from the dead, you know,” she tried to say that lightly but wasn't exactly successful.  
“Does this mean you’ll be there?” he asked excitedly.  
“What would I do there?”  
“Dance with me for one,” he suggested. “If you’re not there, it'll be a room of strangers.”  
“Don't you like making new friends?”  
“I do, but I'd rather be with you.”  
“You say that now, but when the music takes over and you find yourself among the finest in Illyria, I doubt you’ll still be thinking about me.”  
“Does this mean you aren't coming?” he asked sadly.  
“Nothing means anything, Sebastian. But you and your sister don’t play fair.”  
“What does that mean?” He was confused by the remark, and at the same time moved by the way his name sounded coming from her.  
“I think it's time you should go,” she decided.  
*  
“She isn’t coming,” he revealed his suspicions to his sister an hour into the ball.  
“It’s not the end of the world. There are plenty of women here. You might meet one who's more… receptive to your love,” Viola pondered.  
“I might but I don't want to,” he complained.  
Viola was laughing at him, when he noticed a new arrival. He had been checking that way every so often for an hour now. Each time he hoped for Olivia only to be disappointed. And now he saw her, more lovely than ever.  
“Are you seeing that?” Viola whispered at him excitedly.  
“Of course, it's Olivia,” he said, trying to free himself from his sister and go to the lady.  
“No, you idiot, she's wearing colors,” Viola pointed out. “Her mourning is over. Wonder what brought this on?” she teased.  
“Just let me go to her,” he demanded.  
He walked over smiling all the way. “You're here. I can't believe how beautiful you look, my lady. I'm delighted to see you.”  
“It’s good to see you, too.”  
He offered her his arm and she took it. She greeted the hosts, who welcomed her dearly. Sebastian suggested they should dance, and so they did. She didn't say much then. He would compliment her and she would thank him, but no more than that.  
They finally went for a walk in the garden, which was all lit up for the occasion. Olivia was still very quiet, so Sebastian tried to make small talk: “It's a lovely night, isn't it?”  
“I suppose it is,” she sounded distant.  
“You don't like it out here?” the young man worried.  
“I do,” she said simply.  
“Is anything the matter?”  
“Why do you ask?” she evaded.  
“Because I care,” he stated.  
Olivia looked frightened at that answer. “That's not what I meant,” she told him.  
“You look troubled. Is there anything I can do?” he offered.  
“I don't know. I'm terrified. Can you do anything about that?”  
“If you tell me what's frightening you, I'll think of a solution,” he promised.  
“You,” she accused.  
“I promise you have nothing to fear from me,” Sebastian guaranteed.  
“But I do fear how much I think about you. I came all this way just to see you, you know that.”  
“I hoped so but didn't know for sure. I'm so glad to hear it. Why does this make you afraid?”  
“Because it makes no sense! I don't want to think about you at inconvenient times, I don't want to attend balls, and I don't want my heart dancing in my chest whenever I see you; yet all these things are happening.”  
“The solution to love is only love itself,” Sebastian offered.  
“Is this love?” she doubted. “I'm sure it's fear.”  
“You're very brave to face your fears so gracefully,” the young man complimented.  
“Don't mock me,” she misunderstood him.  
“I'm not, I mean it. I don't know why you should fear love, but if you do and are here anyway, that's brave. And I appreciate it. It makes this night even more remarkable.”  
“So I should just live in fear?” Olivia made from what he said.  
“In time you’ll find out there's a safe way to do what looks dangerous. Like fire-eaters, or riding an elephant.”  
Olivia laughed softly. “You really love the circus, don’t you?”  
“I did when I was little,” he corrected. “These days only you have this power over me. But now all I can think about is what a waste it was to have lived all those years without knowing you. I feel cheated by life. I want you to tell me everything I missed.”  
Olivia smiled sweetly. “I think you'll never meet that sensible girl. She disappears around you.”  
“That's good,” Sebastian encouraged. “Love doesn't make much sense”.  
“No, it doesn't,” she agreed meeting his eyes.  
Sebastian felt a welcoming from her, leaned in, and when she didn't pull away, kissed her. It was exhilarating. She was so warm and soft, he never wanted to let go. When he did, Olivia looked at him wide-eyed and said: “I can’t do this.”  
As she turned to leave, Sebastian offered: “If you must go, let me accompany you.”  
“It's a party in your honor. It would be rude of you to leave,” she declined.  
“There's no party without you,” Sebastian protested.  
“I think the hosts may disagree,” she argued.  
“Can I come over and visit you?” he asked.  
“Of course.”  
“I'll be there,” he promised.  
He walked her to her carriage and kissed her hand before she left.  
He didn't notice much of the night after that, except maybe for Viola telling him not to worry, because the way things were going he would soon be married to Olivia. Which was comforting.  
But he didn't get much of Viola's undivided attention for long, even dancing with her. Soon Orsino cut in. He didn't mind it so much right now. It was funny how normal they looked tonight.  
*  
He was with Olivia the next afternoon. He'd wanted to go as soon as he was up but he didn't want to disturb her. He had dreamt of her kiss, the way she said his name, but also how she walked away from him. His heart beat madly. There was some desperation in his need to see her.  
Olivia wasn't smiling when she arrived. He was immediately worried. He wasn't sure how to address it yet. Maybe she’d tell him without his asking.  
“It’s a pleasure to finally see you, my lady.”  
“Have you been waiting long?” she sounded apologetical.  
“Since we said goodbye last night,” he clarified. “It feels like ages.”  
She smiled faintly but it only lasted a second. Soon she was back to her preoccupied stare. It was more than he could take. The idea Olivia was troubled was enough to hurt him. He just didn't imagine it would be this bad.  
“Please, my lady, I can see something aflicts you, tell me about it, let me be of use for you.”  
“If you take away what disturbs me, you’ll have to take yourself away,” she explained in a pained voice.  
“I can't do that,” Sebastian let her know. “And it wouldn't help if I did.”  
“Why wouldn't it?” She meant to keep him speaking.  
“Like I told you last night, only love can fix love, not time, not distance. It wouldn't help if I left now. I'd spend the rest of my life looking for you in other women, and I suspect it would be even worse for you, because you can't do the same being a lady.”  
“How can you know so much about love if you never loved before?”  
“Because I love now,” he was sure. “What do I care about before? I don't. Had I loved another, it wouldn't be in that love I'd seek to understand you.”  
“Why would you seek to understand me?” she tried to make her voice distant but her feelings showed: she was honestly curious about Sebastian.  
“Because I think it's love for me what I see in you, but I don't know why anyone would be this mistrustful of love of all things. Have you loved another? Has he broken your heart, my lady?”  
“I was once ready to swear my love to one with your face,” she confessed.  
“Viola?” Oh, no, if that was true then all was lost.  
“Cesario,” she corrected. “He'd bring Orsino's 'love’ promises, and was so more charming than any of his master’s words. I was ready to lift my mourning, and tell him he had no reason to fear the Duke's reaction. Then he disappeared, and there was talk of Orsino's upcoming wedding to a mysterious woman. Then talk that his pageboy had been a woman all along.” Sebastian didn't know what to say. “I think your sister tried to be my friend. She visited a few times, told me about you, we prayed together for our lost brothers, but I couldn't find in my heart to be her friend. I feel so humiliated whenever I look at her.”  
“Even yesterday? With your hand in mine?” Sebastian interrupted.  
Olivia blushed beautifully. “Not last night,” she admitted. “I was too worried about not showing my fear to care about anything else.”  
“So take my hand once more,” he offered. “ If all you feel is fear, that I know how to soothe. It's much simpler than if you thought of another while holding my hand, don’t you agree?”  
“I agree this is overwhelming,” she took his hand. Sebastian kissed it. “Is it just my hand you hold? I feel you have my heart as well in your hands. Poor heart! What will become of it?”  
“What you allow it to become,” Sebastian whispered. “A vessel for love, or a cold, brittle stone. Your decision.”  
“No, not really,” she disagreed. “A cracked vessel is more pitiful than a lonely stone.”  
“Pitiful is an opinion, and opinions are for outsiders. What do they know? Don't you think I pity my poor sister married to that dirty, old buffoon? Yet she's in love with him, and he is just as weird as her. So what do I know?”  
Olivia smiled with a certain superiority. “You know he's not that old, right? He's not ugly either. But I bet you're right about dirty,” she joked.  
Sebastian laughed nervously. “I hope I'm wrong about that, actually. But I also hope never to find out.” He got a laugh from Olivia. “You see, as an outsider, I can't really say anything accurate about their love, only opinions. Do you think they care? They wouldn't have me in their house if they did.”  
“I don't mean to pry, and I don't even remember if this counts as gossip, but why you say the Duke is like your sister? Is he a crossdresser? If so he's very discreet.”  
Sebastian laughed in contempt for the thought of his brother-in-law. “No, I've never seen him crossdressing. I say he's mad like her because of how naturally he takes every quirk of hers. I have always tried to correct her for her own good, and she goes and finds herself a husband who not only stands those things but…” he trailed off.  
“Loves them?” she offered as an end for his sentence.  
“He refers to my sister as 'they’,” he revealed.  
Olivia looked very confused. Just the fact that she didn't laugh and agreed Viola was a “they” was enough to make him want to thank the gods Olivia didn't share that madness.  
“He is very changed, you know. Your brother-in-law, I mean. I could see it in him yesterday, like I saw on his wedding day. It's lasting. His love for her isn’t a passing phase.”  
“Neither is mine for you,” Sebastian vowed.  
“So why is it that not one word about marriage has left your lips?” she inquired. Sebastian beamed his circus smile at her. Before he could drop to his knee, though, she pressed: “Please, answer.”  
He laughed nervously, but he did have an answer: “Because I'm not Orsino. I wouldn't harass you with proposals when you didn't even know whether you like me enough to endure a visit.” Her laughter was a relieved one, he could tell. “I hope your question means you’re ready for mine, because I've been struggling to contain it.” He dropped to his knees. “My lady, Olivia, will you do me the great honor of marrying me?”  
“I will,” she told him, both smiling and with tears in her eyes.  
Sebastian went for a hug. She wrapped him her soft, small arms and buried her head between his neck and shoulder. When he thought of letting go, the young man realized she was crying. “What's wrong, my love? Did you mean to say no?” he asked softly, hoping she wouldn't say yes to that half joked question.  
She pushed him away to look in his eyes and begged: “Please don't betray me. I'd surely die if you broke my heart.”  
“No, never!” he promised. “I'll tend to your heart like a gentle gardener to his flowers. Spring to winter, always in love with each new bud. Friends with every little bee and butterfly that live off your flowers, but protectful against those who'd pick them for sport and let them shrivel carelessly.”  
“That's a beautiful promise,” she said, still afraid  
“It will be an even more beautiful reality,” Sebastian guaranteed.  
The ring had been a present from Viola for that very purpose. He’d been carrying it around ever since, trying not to get ahead of himself in giving it to Olivia. Now was the exact moment.  
She’d just said she would marry him, and still he feared she'd reject his ring. But she smiled like he’d offered her something much greater. And she let him put it on her finger. What a feeling! If the entire circus had hailed his six-year-old self it still wouldn't have compared. He laughed at himself, his luck, the impossible amount of happiness he felt. Olivia kissed his cheek tenderly. He felt more alive than ever, and kissed her lips. A chaste kiss, but both could feel something huge below its surface. He went for her hand, instead. Kissed it again and pulled himself away trying to find his manners.  
They talked dates and feasts for a while, and Olivia didn't look afraid anymore, nor troubled. She smiled at him like he’d done something incredible. Like he was perfection, like holymen looked at the altar, and sailors at a clear sky. He couldn't believe it was happening.  
He left at dusk not knowing where time had gone.  
*  
“I know it's probably a sad thing to ask,” Olivia began, “but in view of such good news, I feel I must pay my respects to my family. Would you accompany me?”  
“I'm honored you’ll allow me to come. I know you don't share them with just anyone.”  
“It's true,” she confirmed.  
Before his grave, she finally told him about her brother: his favorite song, his favorite weather, their make believe island where every wish you had grew on trees.  
“What was his name for you?”  
“How do you know?” She was surprised.  
“I too have a sister,” he reminded her.  
“You’ll laugh,” Olivia objected.  
“That's the point,” he insisted.  
“Promise you won't use it, though, it would just hurt more."  
“What if it's too good not to be used?” he argued before agreeing.  
“It's not, it's monkey.”  
“Monkey?” Sebastian had a good laugh right there in the cemetery. He reminded himself of his surroundings and stopped. “You don’t look like a monkey. I can't use that.”  
“What's your name for Viola?”  
“Fly, or it used to be. I can't bring myself to say it before her husband.”  
“Fly is better and worse,” Olivia declared.  
“I guess your brother would never call you monkey in my presence either.”  
“Probably not,” she agreed. “But I think he would've approved of you.”  
“I doubt that. I'm marrying his little sister.”  
“I mean apart from that,” she chuckled.  
“There's no apart from that,” he considered. “I can't think of my brother-in-law apart from the man he is around my sister, especially since they’re never apart. I can only think your brother would feel the same, and resent how unlike his little sister you would be around your husband.”  
Olivia seemed to think about it. “Does Viola approve of me?”  
“She's very supportive,” he admitted. “But like I said, her husband is always around, I can't open my heart to her like I used to.”  
“That's very unnatural,” Olivia observed. “Doesn't your sister mind that? I mean, I never had a twin but I used to have talks with my brother that no one else could understand.”  
“So did we, but it seems she’s told him all our secrets, even the ones that weren't hers to tell.”  
“She did think you dead,” Olivia defended her.  
“I know but now there's this man who knows every little, humiliating story of my mistakes.”  
Olivia laughed softly. “Now you’re only hope is to keep this act that it doesn't bother you. Otherwise he'll always use it.”  
“Exactly,” he agreed.  
“Then it'll be a good thing that you tell me those stories. If you can talk about them, they won't bother you so much, or at least so it will seem.”  
“There's nothing I wouldn't tell you gladly.”  
*  
“Nervous about tomorrow?” his brother-in-law, who turned out to be his best men for lack of anyone better, asked him like it was nothing.  
“Don't you dare,” he warned. The last thing he wanted was wedding night advice from the man sleeping with his sister.  
“I mean well, I have been there, you know.”  
“I do know. You're married to my sister,” he accused.  
“Oh, grow up, Sebastian!” Orsino threw the sentence at him like a warning slap. “Do you realize you’re the only one in the entire world who thinks of Viola as sister? I'm not the one who's failing to see the facts here. Plus, I wasn't referring to that. I meant the feeling that everything will be taken away from you when you're a step away from happily ever after.”  
Sebastian did know the feeling. And It did seem like something harmless, considering all else he might've chosen to talk about.  
“What you suggest I do about it?” he said not really believing he would have anything useful to say.  
“Talk to me and have faith,” he stated grandiously.  
Not a bad plan, he decided, even though being vulnerable around Orsino wasn't an attractive idea. But then again, Viola had left them, and in hindsight it was obvious she knew her husband was planning that man-to-man talk. For all he knew…  
“Wait, is this her idea? That you talk to me?” he interrupted whatever Orsino was saying.  
“A little, yes. But you did make me your best man, I have some duties. Keeping you sane is one,” he informed. “And since you don't want my advice in any other way, I should better keep you talking, don’t you think?”  
Sebastian knew it was a mistake, but he asked anyway: “Do you have any advice that doesn't involve you and my sister?”  
Orsino laughed, and then looked strangely like a father figure. “What age you think I am? I've known all sorts of women. And I'm not bragging, it's just life experience.”  
“I haven’t had that experience,” he confessed.  
“Never been with a woman?” Orsino voiced out for his complete mortification. He simply shook his head. “You will tonight,” he shrugged. For once he didn't make a big deal of things and Sebastian was grateful. “ You do know what to do, right?”  
“I'm not stupid,” Sebastian defended himself.  
“Never said you were. The stupid don’t do much else, they don’t know enough about what life offers. And yet you never hear they’re great lovers, do you?” Sebastian agreed with all that, ashamed as he was. “Let me tell you something,” Orsino went on as Sebastian prepared himself to listen with detachment, and not picture anything that would scar him for life. “Don't think too much about doing the deed. That will be the last thing you should do. I'm not saying don't do it, I'm just saying do it last.”  
'What's that supposed to mean?” It was nothing he'd heard as a boy or from the sailors who saved him and under whom he'd worked. So maybe it was worth listening to.  
“Don't you want to kiss her? Kiss her. Kiss her until she’s the one who needs more. Don't you want to touch her? Do that. Learn where she’s more sensitive, use that in your favor. You know all those things you dream of and think they're too absurd for real life? They're probably not. I'm not saying do those things, but maybe talk about them. Words can be enticing. And finally, when all those things seem too little, then you do it.”  
“Oh, gods, I told you not to talk about that!” he complained.  
“And then you asked about it,” Orsino reminded him. “Like Viola said, grow up, Sebastian!”  
“Are these her words?” he changed the subject a little.  
“Yes, she told me to pass the message along when you started acting like this. Now stop thinking unpleasant thoughts and picture your own lady when I speak.”  
He didn't sound just pragmatic, though. He was jealous. “You know it's very weird you’re so possessive. I'm her brother. You could allow us some time to ourselves and not worry.”  
“I know I could,” he admitted. “And it probably wouldn't bother me since it's you. But I'm not doing it at your request. If she asks, I'll comply, not a minute before that.”  
“So she doesn't miss it,” the younger man lamented.  
“You're very judgemental of her, you know,” the Duke informed. Sebastian was offended but didn't get to speak. “You're always disapproving of her clothes, her choices of words, and her love for me. She never said this to me, actually, but I think she’s afraid of what you’ll dare say when you're alone.”  
“What do you mean by that?” Sebastian was really hurt and tried to conceal that.  
“I mean she's not your responsibility anymore. Just be happy for her and worry about yourself. I'm sure once you stop trying to correct her, you'll be back to secretly nicknaming every person you meet.”  
“I hate that she tells you everything,” Sebastian confessed.  
“You'll soon be doing the same with Olivia,” Orsino sentenced.  
*  
A few months later, his wife started a conversation in a very odd tone: “Was anyone else in your family like your sister?”  
“What do you mean, crazy?” he laughed not getting the point.  
“I mean half boy, half girl,” Olivia was blunt.  
“I don't think so. Unless they had every single one of us fooled.”  
“She was very good at it, maybe someone else was too,” Olivia insisted. “I see what you mean, but what's the point?” Sebastian was still confused, his wife knew he wasn't comfortable discussing Viola.  
Olivia smiled and softly asked: “Should we have our eyes open to a very peculiar child?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't give this chapter a Rolling Stones reference on purpose, just like the previous one, I only noticed it while proofreading and aknowleged it. I don't like Sebastian that much to do it on purpose.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuses, I just wanted to put these two in awkward situations, but they deserve better.


End file.
